Fresh flies back as the two soft hands press against her body and shove her away with a violent push. She yelps as she flies backwards out of the fountain, her bottom hitting the inside stone rim of the basin, as she tips back and flops over, falling to the dirt with her back, her legs still hanging over the edge, inside of the water.

“GET AWAY FROM ME!” yells Basil, thrashing as she pulls herself away, kicking and splashing as she crawls out of the fountain on the other side. “WITCH!” The priestess heaves with frantic breaths as she comes to her senses, awakening from her rebirth in the fountain, her hands clawing at her head as she pulls her wet hair away from her face.

Fresh looks up at Basil who is backing away with a clear terror in her eyes, as the priestess clutches her own body, running her shaking hands over the red spots on her white robe. “Wait! Basil!”

“STAY AWAY FROM ME!” shouts the priestess in a frantic terror as she lifts her hands, magic coalescing around her fingers as she walks backwards, away from them. Before Fresh can get up, Basil turns around and runs away down the road as fast as she can. Fresh calls after her, but the priestess doesn’t stop running. Fearfully, Fresh looks back to Jubilee and the man from the sect.

“We have to stop her! If she goes back to the city - !”

Jubilee raises a hand, interrupting her. “Not our problem. We need to get out of here as fast as we can.”

“Jubilee! They’ll kill her! It’s Basil!”

Jubilee shrugs, walking over and pulling her legs out of the fountain. “I don’t know what witch-fuckery you pulled here to bring her back and I don’t want to know,” they say. “But you saw how everyone reacted when they saw you. I told you this would happen.” Jubilee shakes their head. “She’s gone, she probably sees you the same as the rest of them do.” Jubilee yanks one of Fresh’s boots off and holds it upside down, shaking all the water out of it before throwing it down next to her head that still lays in the grass. “I hope you enjoyed your time in the city, because we’re never coming back here again.”

“Jubilee! Your house! The store! I’m so- !”

Jubilee leans over her, their mask hovering above her face. “I thought I told you to shut up about that! It’s done! IT’S OVER!” yells Jubilee, swiping their hand through the air. Fresh feels a droplet hit her face from above. Two furious eyes glare down at her, before Jubilee pulls themselves back upright, walking over to her other side to rip off her other boot to shake the water out of it.

Fresh lets out a loud sniffle, doing her best not to cry. “What are we going to do now? What will we live off of? Everything we had was back h- ho-“ Fresh howls, unable to finish the word.

“We’re leaving,” says Jubilee plainly, ignoring her distress. “The north is as good as fucked for us. The church is going to send out hunting parties for the rest of the year, if not the rest of the decade,” they explain. “This isn’t going to be forgotten.” Jubilee tosses her other boot down next to her head. “The south is as good as fucked, as it’s always been. That leaves us two choi- Will you stop crying?!” yells Jubilee with a cracking voice, but Fresh just cries louder.

“West. East,” says the heavy voice from next to them, undisturbed by the emotionality of either of them.

Jubilee looks up at him “You! Why are you still here?!”

“I am chosen.”

“What the fuck are you talking about, you goon?!”

The man lets out a heavy, excited breath. “I fulfilled the witch’s prophecy. I am chosen,” he looks down at his giant hand that seems to shake just a little as he clenches his fist loosely together, as if that is all the strength he could muster at this point.

“You’re going to draw too much attention! Get the fuck out of here and go die in the forest or something!”

“I will not,” says the man from the sect.

Jubilee rolls their eyes. “You’re going to bleed to death and leave a trail a mile long leading right to us!”

“I will not,” says the man, breathing extra hard as if to emphasize his point. Wet leaks out of his armor. “The pact was sealed and so it shall remain,” he says.

“Shove your cryptic-bullshit ‘pact’ up your ass! You!” Jubilee pulls on Fresh’s collar, trying to pull her up from the ground. “Get the fuck up and tell this guy to get out of here!”

Fresh’s arms shoot up and grabs Jubilee, pulling them down onto the ground with her as she hugs them, pressing them against her drenched robe. “JUBILEEEEEE~”

“I SAID IT’S OVER!” yells Jubilee, struggling, but unable to escape her grasp. “You wanted to be an adventurer, remember?! Well this is what adventuring is! People die! Places get destroyed! Toughen the fuck up already! We need to go before someone finds us!”

“But what will we dooo~?!”

“Aren’t you listening, goo-brain?! We’re going to go somewhere else!”

“But the store -” complains Fresh.

“- We’ll make a new store, shithead! There are other dungeons and other cities!” hisses Jubilee, wiggling themselves free from her clutches. Fresh sniffles, pulling herself slowly upright.

“All of our money was back in the city!” argues Fresh.

“We’ll make new money.”

“But all of our things?” she asks, wiping her eyes.

“We’ll get new things!”

“Your teddy-bear!” yells Fresh, distraught, clenching her fists and leaning in towards Jubilee.

Jubilee rolls their eyes. “Just make me a new one, jackass! If you don’t get up, I’m going to start walking and leave you behind with this creep!” Jubilee points to the man from the sect who lets out another heavy, excited breath at hearing this prospect. Fresh rubs her eyes, stands upright and grabs her wet boots.

“Okaaaay…” she says. “Are you okay, Jubilee? You were hurt, your arm,” asks Fresh.

“I’m fine,” says Jubilee, waving her off, a drip of red running down the outside of their glove. Fresh looks over to the man from the sect who is still covered in a worrying amount of dampness himself. “What about you?”

“Optimal.”

“Liars!” yells Fresh, pointing at them both. “You’re both liars!”

Jubilee shrugs and walks towards the forest. The man from the sect says nothing, but stares at her as she slips on her wet boots and walks after her friend. The three of them walk through the forest, ragged, bloody and exhausted.

“What’s the east like?” asks Fresh, suppressing a sniffle.

“Depends how far we go. It gets rocky at first with a bunch of forests, but after that comes the desert,” says Jubilee. “The eastern dungeon is pretty decent. High level. But the people are a lot more relaxed than around here. Less politics, it’s a real meritocracy,” explains Jubilee. “Turns out desert life doesn’t lend itself well to stupid squabbles when you need to be spending your day killing crabs.”

“Crabs?” asks Fresh, considering what that means. “That sounds nice,” she says, rubbing her eyes again as she tries to get her mind off of things. “Do they like witches then?”

“No. Nobody likes witches,” replies Jubilee.

“Oh…”

“I do,” says a heavy voice from behind them. Fresh laughs with a nervous smile and waves to the man from the sect.

“And the west?”

“Cold as fuck,” says Jubilee as they walk through the forest. “The western dungeon is up in the mountains.”

“Ooh, mountains are pretty!” says Fresh, trying to keep her voice stable.

“Sure? I guess?” replies Jubilee, looking back to her and shrugging. “The western dungeon is a mid-level thing and the people are more reserved. But they have good food, I’ll give ‘em that. Things are kind of fucky there though.”

Fresh scratches her cheek. “What do you mean?”

“They’re very… magic oriented. Mountain life is harsh too, so they’ve been pretty creative with their ways of doing things.”

“So they like witches?!”

“No,” sighs Jubilee.

“I d-”

“Shut up!” yells Jubilee at the man from the sect. He lets out a long exhale in response, his breastplate sinking a bit.

“Won’t the church tell them about us?” asks Fresh, somewhat worried.

“No. Not in any way that matters at least. The church isn’t really present in the west or the east, apart from the odd missionary here or there. They have their own ways of doing things, you know?”

“No,” says Fresh, shaking her head.

Jubilee sighs. “Anyways, we’re going to have a long walk ahead of us. We should have bought that fucking cart and anqa while we had the chance.”

“Yeah…” relents Fresh, sighing along with her friend.

Suddenly, a scream rings out in the distance, growing louder and louder as it echoes towards them. Fresh turns around, recognizing the voice. “BASIL!” calls the girl, turning around to run back. A heavy arm catches her as she runs into the inside of his elbow. “Let me go! Basil’s in trouble!” argues Fresh, but the man from the sect doesn’t let go.

“Basil made her choice. Let’s get out of here,” says Jubilee, walking on ahead entirely indifferent. “You! Meat-head. If you want to keep her safe, then keep her safe from herself.”

The man from the sect doesn’t say anything, looking at Jubilee and then back to Fresh who is trying to fight free from his grip. Grunting, he picks her up again like before and she flails, striking at him again like before, as the three of them march deeper into the forest. “Sorry.”

“Let me go! LET ME GO!” yells Fresh, striking against the back of his metal helmet. “BASIL!” yells the girl into the forest.

The scream grows louder, as if chasing after them. Seconds later, Basil breaks out through the tree-line behind them, having caught up, apparently being chased their way. A dark, glowing silhouette is in pursuit of her. A demonic entity, shining with a deathly purple aura, as it hovers through the air, flying after the priestess. Hounding her.

Fresh’s eyes open wide in shock as she watches the cursed lantern fly after Basil, her brown adventurer’s bag hanging from it, as it barely manages to stay afloat in the air with the heavy load. The giant’s other hand shoots out, clotheslining Basil right across her gut. The priestess lurches forward, wheezing as the air leaves her lungs in an instant. Without a word or even asking for Fresh’s permission, the man from the sect hoists Basil up onto his other shoulder, carrying both of them as indifferent to their combined weight as can be, despite his injuries.

Feeling greatly relieved, Fresh looks at the lantern that floats towards her and she reaches out, grabbing her bag from the thing that is clearly struggling to stay afloat. Feeling her eyes grow wet again as she looks at the familiar thing, she smiles. “You tried really hard, thank you!” she says, rubbing its metal surface with her free hand as the bag droops down, scraping down against the ground.

The lantern bobs up and down, before floating to the side and hovering next to Basil who hangs there adjacent to her, over the man’s other shoulder, limply, entirely dazed, wheezing and stunned. The depiction of the corrupted guardian angel shines with a sickly glow, the befoulment of the thing however does not stop it from fulfilling the original intent of its creator, as if the lantern had known all along what its purpose was on the day of its genesis, like a soul finding its passion in life and feeling a spark of particular conviction, it simply knows. She had made it to keep Basil safe and the lantern had fulfilled its obligation. The pact had already been sealed.

Fresh smiles, happy that Basil finally got her present. In a manner of speaking.

Looking down at the bag in her hands, she shakes it, feeling a familiar weight inside. A thudding of a heavy, wet book can be heard. As well as the jangling of a heap of shining coins, which rings out through the forest with a bright, happy sound that signals one thing; that perhaps, with a little more luck, that everything is going to be okay after all.